Wednesday, May 11, 2011

how i became a mrs. (part 9)

I'm embarrassed by how long it's been. Forgive me, I've been in baby mode these days. Click here to catch up (start from the bottom!)

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By the time Christmas of 2006 rolled around, just nine months after we started dating, we both knew that we wanted to seal the deal with a little bling. Or to be more mushy-gushy, we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Our parents had pretty much known from the beginning that our relationship was pretty serious, so I think they saw it coming. Our friends saw it too. And they were all so supportive.

Here are the things we'd discussed:

We wouldn't get married until I had graduated

I wanted to enjoy the engagement with my friends (i.e. preferably not during the summer, when everyone was scattered)

I had no, no, no preference on the ring, nor did I want to be involved in picking it out

And so there we were. I wasn't one of those omg-put-a-ring-on-my-finger girls. I wasn't impatient. I didn't care how it happened. I just wanted to marry that boy. Andrew was on a ring hunt - that I knew - but I didn't know anything else.

Except that he is a quality freak. So I knew that he was considering Tiffany rings among his options. Now listen, I don't know why I feel the need to justify that, but I do...

We are not brand name snobs. Me especially. You could hand me a cubic zirconia from Walmart and I would ooh and aah over it like it was the most beautiful ring ever. I was looking forward to the engagement part, not the ring part. And that is the honest-to-goodness (I'm not just trying to make myself look good) truth. And Andrew will spend whatever it takes to get something that is high-quality. And so after extensive (read: obsessive) research, he included Tiffany on his short list.

Fast forward to February. Andrew told me that he wanted me to join him on a certain Saturday for a trip to Tiffany. And that as a salesy push, they were going to serve us breakfast. Page? She went into I-don't-know-the-plan mode.

Why do I need to go with you?

But I don't want to pick out the ring.

I don't even want to look at rings.

What are we doing there?

Why are they serving us breakfast?

How do you eat breakfast at a jewelry store?

Why do I need to go with you?

Andrew, God bless his soul, just told me to trust him.

And I did! You guys. I was so stinkin' naive. Anyone reading this would totally know what's about to happen. But I was clueless. The thought never entered my mind. I still think the Lord did it that way for my enjoyment. He's good like that.

So we head to Tiffany bright and early on Saturday. They lead us to a private room, with a table set for two. Roses. Danishes. Fine china. Andrew was freaking out because he'd asked for subtle. I was still completely clueless.

The whole time we were eating, I wouldn't speak above a whisper. I felt so weird and uncomfortable. I didn't want to break their china. I didn't know why they were serving us this strange, fancy breakfast. I knew we were on camera and I didn't want to do anything wrong. We were at Tiffany after all. I didn't even know if I was dressed appropriately for the occasion.

After a while, Andrew started to get to work.

"So, you don't want to pick out the ring?"

"No."

"You don't want to know anything about it?"

"Right."

He smiles, reaches down and places a blue ring box on the table.

"Will this one do?"

Crickets. Gaping mouth.

"It's a ring, Page. Open it. Will you marry me?"

I snapped back to reality and shakily opened the box. I put the amazingly beautiful ring on my finger and still couldn't say a word. His response? "Can I at least get a hug?"

He's a man of few words, that one. I didn't need the mushy-gushy. He'd told me a million times exactly how he felt about me. That, I never doubted.

I was still regaining consciousness when he told me to open the door. And on the other side stood my four best friends, which honestly made the whole engagement perfect. He knew how important it was to enjoy that moment with them and he delivered. Love.

After a lot of phone calls and news that we'd be meeting our family for dinner (orchestrated by Andrew, since our parents hadn't met yet) and driving around Chapel Hill to share the news with anyone who would listen, I sat and stared at my ring for hours.

Not really, but I didn't really know how to end that sentence.

But I was really, really excited. And so giddy. And happy. And giddy. It was a perfect day and such a sweet way to be betrothed. We ended it with a fabulous dinner at Top of the Hill, where our families met and I got to show off/gush about my ring. Like I said, perfect.

And we lived happily ever after....

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A few random things that I should mention:

One day before we were engaged, Andrew asked me to show him one ring that I loved. He promised not to let it influence his decision. He had also already picked out a ring. Risky, eh? And guess which one I picked? The exact.same.one that he did. Great minds, I know.

The morning of the engagement, I had a wardrobe crisis. So I borrowed a shirt from my roommate without asking. She was out of town and it was early - I didn't have time to ask! That roommate? She was there when I came out of the breakfast room. Surprise! I'm engaged! And I'm wearing your shirt!

Apparently, the sales clerk paged "The Castrodale Party" (aka the BFFs, who were supposed to be hiding in another room of the store) as Andrew and I were walking up. Andrew heard it, but I sure didn't. Close call.

Re-reading this is so sweet. What a guy. It also brings back my own engagement story and my thankfulness that I wrote it down while it was all still fresh. How lucky you are to have photos of your happy, gleeful face...that's a treasure. :-)

This makes me cry! I love that you're part of our family. You make Andrew happy, and you've been tremendously supportive in regard to the navy thing. That's huge. All I can say is, it keeps getting better! I look forward to hearing your happy memories for the rest of my life. :-)XOXOXO, Anne in Memphis